


shut up (or everyone is a nervous wreck)

by definitelynotmaria



Category: The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Adoption, Alec is a Fray, Background Jocelyn Fairchild/Luke Garroway, Background Maia Roberts/Bat Velasquez, Bad Parent Robert Lightwood, Clary Fray & Alec Lightwood Friendship, Confident Alec Lightwood, Everyone is a sweetheart, F/M, Good Friend Jace Wayland, Good Parent Maryse Lightwood, I Tried, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I am very nice to Jace in this, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Insecure Simon Lewis, Isabelle Lightwood & Jace Wayland Friendship, Jace Wayland Needs A Hug, Jem and Tessa might be mentioned, Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern | Sebastian Verlac Being an Asshole, M/M, Maia Roberts & Magnus Bane & Simon Lewis Friendship, Maia is a sweetheart, Nervous Jace Wayland, Nervous Magnus Bane, Parental Luke Garroway, Please Don't Hate Me, Protective Jace Wayland, Sort Of, Supportive Clary Fray, and I mean everyone, but it's not really, everyone is nervous, he might not even be mentioned, he's everyone's dad, he's great, this sounds Alec-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 12:15:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17981153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitelynotmaria/pseuds/definitelynotmaria
Summary: Alec has always known that he was... different, and it wasn't because he liked guys. When his mother announces that they're picking up shop and moving "home" (wherever the hell that is) he's confronted with exactly how different he is.Everyone is a nervous wreck, until they aren't.Idk, read the tags.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Umumum... I've come to the realization that this is not what I wanted to write, so be patient with random updates and keep re-reading the existing chapters if you're confused. Idk what else to tell y'all

Tears gathered in Jocelyn Fairchild's eyes as she took baby Alec from her best friend's arms.

"Maryse," She whispered. "Are you sure?"

Bruises colored Maryse's skin, but she was not alone in this. Both her and Jocelyn looked battered, and they were.

Maryse nodded and wrapped her arms around Jocelyn's frail frame, encasing Alec between them. "He'll be safe with you."

"It's not too late for you to come with me," Jocelyn's voice was pleading. "We can both start over. This doesn't have to be goodbye."

Maryse laughed, but it contained no humor. "He'll find me, you know he will. I won't put you in danger, any of you."

Her eyes darted to Jocelyn's growing stomach.

Jocelyn looked away, tears finally falling from her eyes. "Get out, Mar. As soon as you can, just run. And call sometimes, okay?"

"You know I can't do that."

"Promise me," Jocelyn insisted. "I have to know if you're okay or not. Just- Find a way to call."

Maryse nodded. "I promise. Now go, the plane is leaving soon."

Jocelyn sucked in a breath and looked down at the baby boy in her arms.

"Goodbye, Jocelyn."

"Bye," Jocelyn turned away before she could let another tear escape.

She had to be strong now, for Alec, and for the life growing inside her. She could do this, and she would do this, all by herself.

 

\--Seven months later--

Maryse stared at the plastic tube in her hands. Her eyes were dry, she'd run out of tears long ago. As she looked down at the double lines, she didn't even feel the dread that she knew she should. She was just tired, and she wanted it all to end.


	2. Lying on the beach, the middle of December

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maryse and mariachi bands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at descriptions, sue me. Also, I know that this is mostly just a filler chapter, but more things are coming later! And I said that I would post this yesterday, but my phone won't charge, so it may be a couple days between updates for a while.  
> Here's the thing: This is a mess, and it'll continue to be a mess for the entirety of its existence. But I really hope it's a mess that someone likes, because this is taking up literally all of my free time, and I've barely even written anything.

Izzy flung an arm over her eyes, trying to protect them from the harsh California sun. She heard shuffling in the sand beside her, and a few cold drops of water landed on her bare stomach. She flinched at the obvious contrast in temperature.

"Jace," She groaned. "Seriously?"

"Sorry, Iz."

"Yeah, whatever."

She went back to the task at hand- that is, trying to fall asleep on the thin beach towel between her and the warm sand.

"Iz?"

A beat, then "Izzy..."

"My darling Isabelle,"

She tried to ignore him, she really did, but eventually he started to poke at her ribs. She sat up too quickly, blinking the dark spots from her vision.

"What?" She snapped.

"How much do you wanna bet that I can get that lifeguard's number?"

Izzy followed his gaze to the girl clothed in a red bathing suit. She was pretty enough, with wildly curly hair and skin the color of hazelnuts, but she wasn't really Jace's type. She was short and looked like the artistic type. Jace only ever went for tall, supermodel-esque girls with no real interests.

"She probably goes to the university, Jace. College girls aren't interested in emotionally repressed seventeen year old boys."

"Ouch."

Isabelle shrugged. "You asked."

"But how much?"

She laughed. "Okay, I'll bet you ten bucks that she takes one look at your obnoxious haircut and sends you away with your tail between your legs."

Jace grinned. "Those are fighting words, Iz."

"Well, then go to battle, weirdo."

Jace leapt to his feet and approached the girl. Izzy had to hide her face behind her hand, not wanting to feel the second-hand embarrassment. After a few moments, she peeked again. The girl was laughing, a triumphant smile on Jace's face.

"Shit," She might actually lose this bet.

The girl plucked a pen from her lifeguard chair and wrote something on Jace's hand. Jace gave the girl a side-hug and started to walk back towards Izzy. She wasn't looking forward to his gloating.

Her phone started to ring, and she swiped up to answer. "Hello?"

"Hi, uh-I- You're Isabelle?"

She tilted her head. "Yes."

Jace plopped down beside her, sending her a questioning look.

"Um, you don't know me, but your parents have been in an accident."

Isabelle sat up a little straighter. "What? How long ago did it happen? How did you get my number?"

"It was about twenty minutes ago. I, uh- I'm the one who called 911. I'm riding in the ambulance with your mother right now. She had an emergency contact card in her wallet. They're taking her to Idris Memorial. Could you meet us there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can do that. Thank you so much."

"It's uh- it's really no problem."

Izzy hung up the call.

"Jace," She whispered, her stomach in knots, "We have to go to the hospital."

***

Alec stared at the primed canvas in front of him, the tip of his pencil hovering in the air between him and the easel. The door to his room swung open, and Clary flung herself on his bed.

"Mom's acting spacey." She announced.

Alec glanced at her, rolling his eyes. "She's probably just nervous about the gallery opening, Clare."

She sighed. "I know, but I worry."

"Yeah, well, you're always going to worry. Just try to relax and be annoyingly happy for her."

Clary glared at him. "You should take your own advice. I know you only get stuck on a painting when you're stressed."

"Clary, Alec," Jocelyn called from the living room. "Are you going to be ready to go in half an hour? I want to be there early in case they need help setting up."

"Shoot. I still need to wax before we go."

Alec laughed. "Yeah, you have fun with that. I'm gonna take a shower, do you need anything from the bathroom before I get in?"

Clary shook her head. "No, go ahead."

Alec got out of the shower to find that Clary had set out his favorite slacks and the black shirt that she swore was magic. He smiled fondly and got dressed quickly.

"Clary, are you done with your legs yet? I need you to do my hair." He pushed Clary's door open.

Clary's tongue was between her teeth, how it always way when she was concentrating really hard. "Yeah, just wait a second. This is the last one."

She pressed the waxing stip onto her leg, rubbed it a couple times, waited, and then ripped it off with a small pained gasp.

"Why do you even put yourself through that?" Alec asked, laughing. "Just go French."

Clary's nose wrinkled. "No thanks. Can you hand me my aloe lotion?"

He grabbed it from her nightstand and tossed it to her.

"Now what was it you said about your hair?"

***

Maia was not having the best time. It had nothing to do with the fact that she had probably failed every last one of her finals, or that she had approximately -3 friends, and everything to do with the mariachi band following her around at the moment.

How did she get here, you wonder.

Well, it started a couple weeks prior, with a harmless pencil. The guy who sat in front of her in Calc 1 had forgotten his, and she lent him one. Since then, she hadn't been able to shake him loose. First it was "can I get your number, in case I have to miss class or something?", and the next thing she knew, she was hiding from four guys with sombreros and guitars. She ducked into the nearest building, and ran straight into a guy with purple hair.

"Woah, slow down," He said distractedly.

She quickly stood behind him, as the mariachi band passed by the transparent glass wall.

"Are you... hiding from those guys?"

She leaned to the left and peered through the building, letting out a sigh of relief. They were nowhere in sight.

"Um," She stepped out from behind him and actually faced him. "Yes, I am."

"Was that a mariachi band?"

She nodded. "Yeah, it's a long story. But uh, I can't go back to my dorm now. They know where I live."

"This is going to sound super weird, but do you need a place to crash? I mean, if you're really that intent on staying away from the mariachi band, I have an extra room in my apartment."

"You live off campus?"

He nodded. "Yeah, and I do have another roommate, in case you're worried about me being a serial killer."

"I don't know how that disproves anything, but I strangely trust you a little more now."

"Yeah, and his sister sleeps on our couch like 95% of the time, so you wouldn't even be the only girl in the apartment."

Maia took a deep breath. She shouldn't agree to this, she should really just politely decline. But after three hours of being followed by a mariachi band, she'd rather be murdered in an alleyway than be serenaded one more time.

Unfortunately, that was not in the cards. As soon as she walked into the guy's (Magnus, she'd learned) apartment, the sound of really, really bad alternative music assaulted her eardrums. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Simon," Magnus yelled. "We have company who, unlike me, is not used to your horrendous excuse for music."

A boy with scruffy brown hair and a Star Wars t-shirt, presumably Simon, poked his head out of one of the bedrooms. "Oh. Okay. A girl. Cool."

Another head emerged from the same room. This time, a girl with the same hair as Simon, only longer. "Thank God. You, my dear, are a national hero if this means that Simon's band can't practice for the foreseeable future."

Maia shifted a little, further displaying her already obvious discomfort. "Uh, you're welcome?"

Magnus winced. "Okay, yeah, that's Simon and his sister, Rebecca. She's cool."

"And I'm not?" Simon flung a hand over his heart dramatically.

"No." Magnus deadpanned.

Maia felt the tension draining from her shoulders. This was okay, they weren't serial killers, and she was going to be fine. Maybe she'd even make friends. She didn't want to think about the odds of that happening, not after her last disastrous attempt at procuring friends.

"So, Maia needs a place to crash until we can figure out how to get a restraining order against a mariachi band."

Simon looked mildly curious, but Rebecca just nodded like she knew exactly what Maia was going through.

"Yeah, we can totally help with that," Rebecca said matter-of-factly. "I have a guy."

Maia stared. She didn't really know how one picked up connections for this specific of a problem, but she wasn't about to refuse the help.

Magnus showed her the guest room, Rebecca and Simon trailing behind, offering amusing but unhelpful commentary. Simon still had an electric guitar in his hands, strap slung across his back. He almost hit the door frame with the neck of the guitar no less than seven times.

"So, why doesn't Rebecca sleep in the guest room?"

Magnus rolled his eyes. "She thinks that there's a ghost in the light fixture that has a personal vendetta against her."

Maia raised her eyebrows, but nodded. She didn't think she really needed to hear that particular story yet. "Love that."

"I most definitely did not love that," Rebecca pouted. "It was terrifying."

Magnus solemnly agreed, but as soon as Rebecca turned around, he winked at Maia.

She grinned.

They went back out into the living room, where one on the bookshelves had been commandeered by Rebecca for all of her possessions.

"So," Rebecca started. "Will you be needing any clothes, toothbrushes, skincare...?"

Maia looked warily at the bookshelf, covered by a lacy white curtain that was nailed above the top shelf.

Simon scoffed. "Becs is ready for the zombie apocalypse. Seriously, don't worry about borrowing anything from her. Chances are, she has like fifteen extras, just in case."

"Thanks," Maia said.

Magnus cleared his throat. "That's enough, guys. I think we've overwhelmed her enough for one day. Maia, one of us can go to your dorm with you if you need anything."

If he wanted to stop overwhelming her, this was certainly not the way to go. Maia had been so used to being on her own, that this kindness was unfamiliar to her. She felt foolish, in her pink Converse, with tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. She didn't trust herself to talk, so she just nodded.

"Okay."

***

Alec glanced around the gallery, white walls surrounding him on all sides. He caught sight of Clary's fiery hair, and started to make his way over. The gallery had been emptying steadily for about an hour, and all the important people had already been through.

"Hey," He said softly as soon as Clary was within hearing distance. "Can we get Mom out of here? She looks like she's going to cry."

Clary nodded. "I already talked to the manager. He said they'd be fine with the clean-up if we sneak out a few minutes early."

"I was thinking Gizmo's?"

Gizmo's was their favorite 24-hour diner, just a couple blocks from the gallery. They went every time something vaguely significant happened, and they always had the same order- two caramel shakes, for Jocelyn and Clary, one strawberry for Alec, and a basket of fries.

"Yeah, can you grab our coats? I'll grab Mom."

They split up and met back at the front door to the gallery. Alec helped Jocelyn and Clary into their coats and they all walked out of the gallery and down the block to Gizmo's.

While they waited to be seated, Jocelyn got quiet.

"I have something to tell you guys," She said in an excited near-whisper. "We're moving back home."

Clary and Alec glanced at each other.

"Um," Alec began. "Where is home, exactly?"

***

Isabelle and Jace stood beside Maryse's hospital bed, Isabelle clutching her hand tightly. She hadn't regained consciousness yet.

The door swung open almost silently. "Isabelle and Jace Lightwood?"

The doctor gestured for them to come outside.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the doctor's face fell. "I'm sorry that I have to be the one to give you this news..."

Isabelle and Jace looked at each other.

"Your father, Robert, didn't make it through surgery."

It was like a weight had been lifted, and suddenly Isabelle felt like crying. She folded into Jace's arms, her tears soaking the front of his shirt. They weren't tears of sadness, however. They were tears of relief.

All Isabelle could feel was freedom, finally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why hello, children. I see you've read to the end. Congratulations. Tell me something good in the comments. Also, please don't ask me to change the endgame ships. I love basically every ship in this fandom, but the canon ones will always hold a special place in my heart, so... I don't know where that was going. Okay, bye

**Author's Note:**

> Don't roast me over things being "out of character". Literally every character is in a different environment than they were in the books. I know what I wrote, and it's not good, but hey- you're the one that read this train wreck.


End file.
